Waking Up in Vegas
by CrazyKatChan07
Summary: Tony and Pepper go for a weekend vacation - and end up with a little more than they she wanted. Think The Hangover slash Katy Perry. Strong language. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

AN – Totally thought of this when I heard Katy Perry's song "Waking Up in Vegas" and how much it was really possible for the ever-cute Pepperony.  
This will be a half song-fic – more using the lyrics to show the connections I had in my brain. There will be some chorus cut out and some mashing of some things.  
And yes, this will be a semi-oneshot. It may take more than one chapter to throw out. Think of The Hangover, but with pop lyrics.

**Waking Up in Vegas**

/…_you gotta help me out  
its all a blur last night_…/

Bright, horribly bright –  
That musky, sweaty smell I so loved in the morning, his warm skin on my face –

The scratching of…cheap carpeting?  
I was up and noticing how horribly my head was throbbing in seconds. The cheap carpeting was that of a car – a limo, to be exact.  
And I was naked and sleeping in the floor of said limo with Tony.  
Our only blanket was what looked like a tuxedo coat of his.

Weren't we supposed to be in a hotel room at Caesars? With a glorious view and a Jacuzzi in the middle so we could see the strip?

I knew coming to Vegas was a bad idea when Tony had begged me to come with him as a 'tiny vacation'.

Now I couldn't remember what the night before had been like past the 3 glasses of wine at the Delmonico.

"Tony!" I pushed him soundly, rolling him from his side onto his back and into the cold.  
Just as I expected, he too was nude, and seemed a little less willing to wake up than myself.  
All he did was groan and whine as he popped open his eyes.  
My immediate estimation? He was more hungover than I was.

"Good…morning." He grumbled as he stared at me through his bloodshot eyes. I wasn't worried about him – he did paperwork and ran meetings half drunk. A hangover wouldn't be a problem.

"Whose limo?" He groaned out as he sat up, scratching around his chest piece without thinking about it. He seemed to do that every morning.

"I don't know. You tell me." I grumbled as he leaned over at least to kiss my cheek. Somehow I devised that this was some kind of joke played by him, and that we were just sitting outside of the hotel.

It seemed a bit wrong when I did look out – and saw that we were in a parking lot of some limo service that seemed to be outside of town. There was a line of limos off to our left and right, but beyond that – nothing really. Dirt, mountains and tumbleweeds.

"Tony. How did we get in a limo?"

"I don't remember anything past…uh, the club after dinner." He was rubbing his face with his hands, surely trying to fix the burning in his eyes from the long night.

"Well, someone has to find out how we got here. And…if I see right…I don't have any clothes in here."

I didn't. My bra and underwear – oddly, both cream colored and lacy – were draped over one of the leather seats. It looked like he had a full suit off to his side – bow tie included.

"Huh. At least I got lucky."

"Tony!"

"What? Don't hit me, I'm just telling the fucking truth!"

"Go see if anyone is in the office. If we have to pay to go back, just give them my card-" I dug around in the tiny white purse I had off to the side – also, something I don't remember ever having – and handed him my credit card.

Normally he would refuse for me to pay for anything, but he didn't say much as he stuck the card in his mouth and pulled on the dress pants and tux shirt he had laying around before clamoring out of the limo, leaving me alone to put my under garments back on.

_/…we need a taxi  
cause youre hungover  
and im broke…/_

God, I hate the desert sun.

And these clothes smell funny…  
What the hell is all over them? No, first priority, figure out where the fuck we are.

I walked over to the decent looking office building and walked right in the door. First thing I noticed – the clock on the wall said 9:47. Okay, so it's damn early for me to be awake and not unlike me to be this hungover on a Saturday.

"Can I help you, Mr. Stark?"

Oh, shit.  
"Uhm, yeah, hi. …You know me?"

"Yes, sir. You rented a limo for…'as long as I fucking need it' at 5:13 this morning."

This kid was already grating on what nerves I had from the pounding headache and the ever-present need to evacuate whatever was NOT in my stomach. He couldn't have been more than 20, and apparently was pulling a long night shift. I'm sure he was really happy – just like me.

"Look, uh, can we get…said limo, to take us back to Caesars? I have a card…" I pulled it from my pants, but the kid held up his hand.

"Sir, if that's Miss Potts' card, it was declined this morning as well. I was told that if you did not appear from the limousine within the next hour that I would have to have the police escort you out. The only reason I did not before is because we know you can pay. Now, do you have another form of payment?"

How much had she charged that she couldn't even rent a limo?

"Sure. I'll go get my wallet."

I walked straight back to the car we had designated as 'our own' apparently and crawled back in to sit in the back seat. Pepper was sitting in another with my jacket wrapped around her front side to cover herself.

"So?"

"Well, we won't be using your card – out of money. Oh, and we got here at 5am." I said as I handed it back to her and reached to feel for my wallet in my jacket.

"WHAT? What the fuck did we buy with MY card?"

_/…I lost my fake id  
but you lost the motel key  
spare me your freaking  
dirty looks  
now don't blame me…/_

"You're looking at me like I know what YOU bought with YOUR card. I remember as much as you do. Are you going to let me look for my wallet or what? We can just sit here – I don't mind the view, I mean, you do look nice in –sniff- lacy underwear."

I yanked the card back from his hand and threw his jacket at him, throwing it over his head for him to pull off. Both of us irritable and hungover wasn't going to get us out of whatever mess this was. As I tucked away my card again, I realized my driver's license was gone. …where the hell would that have gone to?

"Don't blame me for this shit, you're part of it little miss prim and perfect! You're hungover just like me. And it's kind of fun to see – never seen this side of perfection before…"

"Can it, Tony. Give me your damn wallet."

"Oooh, now you're cursing like me too. Am I a bad influence?"

I took his jacket back too and wrapped it around myself before getting out the limo as well. His wallet was in the same place it always was in his jacket – in his breast pocket.  
And sure I was in only underwear and hiding under my boyfriend's jacket – which smelled weird, I might add – but I had to see what was wrong with my card. Maybe they'd let me use a phone – because I had no idea where mine was – to find out what was wrong with my card.

"Good morning Miss Potts. Oh, I do have something for you in the back. Let me go get it."

"…Where's your rest room?"

"Down the hall and to the right."

"Thank you." I blushed horrendously. The boy behind the counter was cute, and here I am in my underwear. I'm sure he knew what was going on in the limo before we passed out too. That looked even better, I was sure.

The bathroom was well cleaned and only one toilet in a decent sized room and a nice looking sink. Apparently this was more for the primping than the actual act of use. I decided to wash my face off – I felt horribly sweaty and disgusting, mostly because it was so hot in that limo.

As I ran my hands over my face, I felt something cut my nose. What I saw in the mirror that caused it made me realize something.

"Miss Potts? I'm leaving your dress on the door if you want to put it on."

_/…why are these lights so bright  
did we get hitched last night?  
dressed up like elvis  
why am I wearing your class ring?.../_

It was starting to warm up in that damn limo. When was she coming back? When she did, I wasn't expecting what I saw.

Pepper was wearing a full wedding gown, train veil and all.

As soon as she opened the door, she threw my jacket and wallet back at me, in that order.

"WE GOT MARRIED."

"Could you say that a little softer, it is a little early-"

She held up her left hand – and I couldn't help but laugh.

She was wearing my gold MIT ring.

With some tape it looked like underneath so it would fit.

"We're MARRIED, Tony. The license is in your wallet! We got married last night!"

It took her saying that for me to realize that I was wearing my father's wedding ring – which I wore all the time anyway on my right hand – on my left hand as well. How did I not notice that?

She climbed in and sat down far away from me. Maybe I didn't like hungover Pepper – she was bitchier than normal.

I opened my wallet to find a marriage license – from the Las Vegas Hilton – and both of our full names and signatures.

I'm married.

"Yeah. We are."

"Is that all you have to say? WHAT IF THEY CALL THE PRESS TONY."

"OW. Softer tones, too much liquor, remember?"

"Apparently, because we're married!"

"IS that such a bad thing really?"

As I looked at my wallet again , I realized another odd piece of paper sticking out of the Italian leather – a receipt?  
As I pulled it out, I realized what kind of receipt it was –

It was our wedding receipt.

All 15,000 dollars of it.

And – charged to one Virginia Potts' credit card.

That wasn't what made me laugh. It was what had cost 15 grand.

The Starfleet Wedding at the Las Vegas Hilton – we had a Star Trek wedding.

And I didn't even pay for it.

"What's so funny, Tony?" She barked before taking the receipt from me. Her face afterwards? So fucking priceless.

That was probably why her credit card didn't work anymore. But I didn't care.

I didn't mind getting married by a guy dressed in Starfleet colors and tags. Pepper, on the other hand, apparently did.

I just believe even drunk she would 1 – let us have a Star Trek wedding and 2 – pay for it.

That made my damn day.

Apparently, behind the receipt was a picture of our wedding – us, plastered drunk, a guy in a red Starfleet shirt, and an Elvis.

Why the Elvis was there, I don't know, but this was getting funnier by the minute.

She did pull out another receipt and handed it to me.

It was from some place called Celebrations – and it was for 20 grand.

This, I at least paid for.

There were a few things on it. 3, to be exact. One I somewhat could understand to be 500 dollar shoes, I saw something that said veil –

It was the receipt for her current outfit. I bought her wedding dress, she paid for the wedding. That made sense. She probably, even drunk, felt bad that I had been paying for everything so she thought she would take the wedding tab.

"So. We got married at…" I had to look at the receipt for her paying for the wedding again "…4 in the morning. An hour later, we got the limo. Makes sense."

"Yeah, but WHY ARE WE MARRIED."

"OW. Loud NOISES aren't NICE to people with hangovers! How can you stand it yourself!"

"I'm not as hungover as you, Tony. I just look like it."

_/…don't call your mother  
cause now we're partners in crime  
don't be a baby  
remember what you told me…/_

We sat in silence for a minute. I was too shellshocked to berate him anymore, and he didn't seem to care about it as much as I did anyway. Why didn't he care? What was more interesting than 'I got drunk and got married?'

"We shouldn't have come this weekend."

"Why not? It's already proved to be the most interesting weekends we've had since you decided to open up about your crush on me for years."

"You really can still be an asshole, you know that."

"You still married me. Besides, you're the one that said it."

"Said what?"

"Put your money where your mouth is. Though, now that I think about it, it didn't make sense at the time…"

"What are you talking about, Tony."

"I remember you telling me to shut the fuck up and put my money where my mouth is. I think we were in a club…it was loud."

_/…shut up and put your money where your mouth is  
that's what you get for waking up in vegas  
get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now  
that's what you get for waking up in vegas…/_

At that moment, a door to the limo opened and a driver crawled into the front seat.  
"Where to, Mr. Stark?"

"Caesars."

"Yes, sir."


	2. Chapter 2

Shut up and put your money where your mouth is

It was a bit of a drive into town and onto the strip. Limos, no matter what time of day it was, were hard to navigate around this city. For how many they had, they didn't build the streets thinking about cars longer than 12 feet.

I couldn't believe it. I had not only said yes to letting myself go on a 'mini vacation' to Las Vegas with Tony Stark, but I had let the bastard get me drunk and in my drunken stupor  
I had married him.

Well, at least in said drunken stupor I had good taste. My wedding dress was beautiful, if unnecessary for a Vegas wedding – especially for a Vegas wedding in a STAR TREK WEDDING.

Why I did even think that was a good idea? What possessed me, even as inebriated as I had been, to pay for a 15 thousand dollar wedding that was Star Trek themed?

If we (me) were lucky enough, there were some clues as to what let to this wonderful excursion of ours.

I blamed every part of my brain for caving and letting him bring me here. His normal Vegas MO was getting slobbering drunk on free drinks from the casino, gamble away some inordinate amount of money with too many zeros and have sex with 2 or more of the girls that stood around the high rollers room trying to pick up a date for the night.

Cleaning up messes on Monday morning was more normal that anywhere else he went. And the girls were even trampier than he found anywhere else either.

Now I was the tramp he had found himself with in the morning.

We were completely quiet for the drive and didn't even sit next to each other. He didn't think it was a big deal. I was surprised I hadn't had an aneurysm yet. Every fiber of my being wanted to scream and rail at him, but that wouldn't change a single thing. It wouldn't make him take this more seriously. We would have to get this annulled, and that was public property – and therefore the press could pick it up and smell the money coming in. Hell, I was surprised it hadn't hit yet. But, it was early on a Saturday.

After 20 minutes of awkward silence, we were dropped off at the front door of Caesar's. I realized that walking out of the limo and into the hotel itself would be a severe liability with my current wardrobe, but I had no other choice.

"Give me your jacket."

"Why?"

"I don't particularly feel like people knowing that I married my boss, Tony."

He threw me his tuxedo jacket before stepping out of the limo to half-sleeping attendants before reaching in to help me out. I didn't realize how hard it was to walk in a wedding dress while trying to cover my face until I tried to do it.

We walk in with him guiding me around and I was busy trying to scout for paparazzi. I didn't see anyone immediately, so it wasn't as big of a deal to hide myself, but I did it anyway.

I stayed tight to his back as he asked for a new room key at the desk. It only took 30 seconds, and he turned to leave with me, but the clerk called back.

"Oh! Mr. Stark! We received your wedding photos from the Hilton this morning. Here they are sir. And congratulations."

The cute Hispanic girl handed them over to him and he said nothing but gave her a 'shut-the-hell-up' smile. Sure, I couldn't see it, but I could just feel. That and the way she looked at him afterwards.

He shoved the photos in their brown package into my hand and dragged me on to the elevator. Only once the doors closed did I pull his jacket down over my naked shoulders and opened the package. If I paid 15 grand for a wedding, I better have gotten at least decent wedding pictures.

It had every kind of picture in the book. A giant picture, wallets, 4x6s, 5x7s, a couple 8x10s, a giant oval shaped one, and the roll of film we used for more pictures if needed.

The only one of real merit was the 11x14 – of us face to face and staring into each other's eyes. I looked terribly drunk, only because my pale freckled skin was a nice shade of pink and my eyes looked a little swimmy – but other than that we looked happy. Like a couple that intended to get married at 4 in the morning.

Even if the background was the deck of the USS Enterprise.

"Good photographer." Tony mumbled, looking over my shoulder at the picture.

I wish he would look at this as a bigger disaster than he seemed willing to.

I shoved all the pictures back in the envelope and pinned it shut with the metal tongs. I wasn't interested in seeing anymore of my stupidity today, at least in photographic form.

The door to the elevator opened on the top floor, and right in front of us was our penthouse door – covered in flowers.

When I say covered, I mean there were rose bouquets everywhere.

We had to pick up 4 of them to walk through the door.

I wanted to ask if he had done it, but thinking about it, if he had he probably had ordered them while drunk.

Once we did walk in, the penthouse was relatively clean. Nothing strewn about anywhere. We put the bouquets in the kitchen area before I wandered off to the bedroom to try and find me some better clothes.

Inside the door, the giant bed had clothes everywhere and sheets messed. I noticed the dress I had worn to dinner as well as his dress shirt, slacks, and jacket.

But they were covered in something. I walked over to pick up his shirt and when I tilted it up, it glittered. His shirt was covered in glitter.

I had this moment of small clarity. I saw him sitting in a dimly lit club and a scantily clad showgirl-dressed woman in his lap. More than likely, she had been some whore trolling for her next big break. And Tony Stark alone had probably looked like a hook, line, and sinker.

Rage overtook me for a moment with that little glimmer of the night before – at least I thought it was the night before – and I threw his shirt down. The glitter was all over his pants too.

"Tony, come help me out of this dress!"

"I am right HERE you know! You don't have to yell…you think we could call up some coffee?"

He already had his shirt and shoes off when he walked in to start unzipping the dress. In the faint hint of sunlight, I saw a few stray dots of light on his chest and collar. I hadn't noticed that before.

"Where did you get the glitter?"

"What glitter?" He finished the zipper of my dress and helped peel it off of me, rubbing his hands over my shoulders shortly afterwards.

I whipped around, now out of my confines, and ran my manicured nail over his skin where I saw one of the dots and picked it up on my nail. All of the glitter was a lime green color. That was the same color as the sequin outfit on the girl I remembered.

"I don't know. We _are_ in Vegas, Pepper."

"Whores wear body glitter, Tony."

"What are you saying?"

"I remember! I remember seeing you with a showgirl in your lap last night. You looked a little too close for my taste too!"

"Why are you jealous now? We're married now, right? Who cares what happened last night. You have me now." He held up his hand with his father's ring on it and shook it in front of my face before turning around to look in the closet for clothes to change into.

"I'm going to shower. Are you going to join me?" He offered as he looked at what he had wardrobe wise before stripping his pants and leaving them in the floor.

Sure, it wouldn't be the first time in a few hours that I had seen him naked, and I did need to shower, but things needed to be done first.

"I'll shower after." I said tersely and turned to hang up my wedding dress. The hanger was on the top of the door of the closet we had been using. At least we came back here to change for the wedding.

In my bra and underwear, I sat on the bed while he showered and tried to understand what had happened the night before.

I remembered nice dinner at the Delmonico, and I remembered the good wine. I somewhat remembered coming back to the room overly buzzed and changing into something 'a little more revealing and less comfortable' I think is how I put it. I groaned – he knew that I was a horrible lightweight with some things. One of them was good wine, especially when I wasn't the one paying.

I saw what I changed into. It was a small black skirt and a blue tank top I intended to wear shopping later today – at least that's what I thought when I packed it. I didn't expect to be wearing it to some club while most of the way drunk.

How had he convinced me to go to a club with him? I hated clubs. I especially hated going to clubs with him, or at least I had in the past. Apparently it hadn't changed much from my small glimpse of a memory.

Is that why we ended up married?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It wasn't hard to remember things. I remembered most of what happened now that the fog had cleared. Sure, I was giggly stupid drunk, but it was rare that I got blackout drunk. I tried a few times, but it never really seemed to happen. I couldn't believe that she didn't remember that. Her main priority was damage control, not is Tony Stark lying.

But I didn't want to piss her off any more than she already was by telling her I knew everything.

The hot water hitting my skin felt so much better than the tensioned air she kept around her right now. It had been my idea to get married, and she fell into it like the emotionally-needy Pepper I knew was hiding under those strong words and stiletto heels.

I had been drunkenly hitting on some chick that found her way to me while she had gone to the bathroom. Pepper walked up with said chick in my lap. She freaked, as to be expected, and my drunk self thought the best way to confirm my affections and commitment to her was to offer to marry her.

And, as it was funny at the time, it was funnier now that I thought about what she had screamed at me afterwards.

After a long moment of thinking, she stared me dead in the eyes (all the while I'm trying my damndest not to get caught staring down the open hole in the top of her tank since she was leaning over just enough…) and screamed over the music

"Shut the fuck up and put your money where your mouth is, Stark!"

So, we left the club in a giggly heap after one last round of what Potts called grind and hump dancing and grabbed a limo (the same limo that would later be used to consummate our marriage) to drive over to Celebrations to buy her a dress at 2 in the morning on a Friday. I made some phone calls and they opened for us late night because of who I am and how much money they knew I would be throwing down. While she tried on couture wedding dresses and they fitted me for a tuxedo, I made arrangements for us to get married at the Hilton. The Star Trek thing was honest to god – her idea. She knew I liked it. I guess in her drunken mind it had been a concession to me voluntarily offering to marry her.

It felt weird to wear my father's ring on my left finger. It felt weird for anything to be there. Just the sensation reminded me that I signed something where it wasn't just me anymore. Well, it had never been just me, but there was never something physical to show for it.

I felt like I had been married to Pepper for the past decade, the only difference was she didn't sleep in my bed and we didn't have sex. We might as well have been married. I wondered once if we were married by common law, but because she didn't live in the house, we weren't.

Once I felt like I had gotten the sweat, glitter, and sex smell off of my skin, I turned it off and wrapped the towel around me. I was considering telling her. She would find out eventually, but would it be better if I told her myself?

Would it be worse to tell her I didn't regret doing it?

I wandered out, still dripping wet and only barely covered to find her sitting on the bed quietly.

"Your turn, missus."

She didn't say anything, but made a face I knew was disapproving of what I had called her. I grinned anyway. She had to get used to it – especially if I convinced her to keep the ring.

She did get up and move past me, pushing me out of the bathroom and shutting the door in my face as I turned to go back in. Yeah, she's pissed. The question was what she was pissed about now.

"Pepper, at least let me in."

"You've seen enough of me naked for one day!"

"I don't care about seeing you naked, I can see you naked anytime I want now."

The loud thud against the door in front of me, I'm sure, was meant to actually hit me and not the door. Sure, part of the fun of my life was screwing with her, but she was damn hot when she was angry.

"Do you want to know what happened or not?"

No answer. Nothing. I heard her turn the shower on, then a swift click of the lock undoing itself and the shower door slamming so I wouldn't see her naked.

I walked into the make-shift sauna and sat down in the wooden chair in the corner to begin drying myself off. As such, I could see her through the opaque glass, and the basic lines of her pale curves. I had a hard time thinking when I saw her move behind it-

"You remember now? Why didn't you tell me?"

She didn't sound pissed, more quizzical. Curious, and needy.

"I'll tell you if you let me in."

"You just took a shower!"

"Doesn't mean I'm going to shower."

"No, Tony. Just tell me."

"Fine, I'll tell you. What do you remember last?"

"Going to the club, getting there, you conned me into tequila shots-"

"You already had 4 glasses of wine with dinner. What more is tequila going to do?"

"Cause me to forget things. This is starting to sound more and more like you set me up for this."

"I didn't set you up for anything! Okay, well, maybe…a little something."

"Like seeing me naked."

"Something like that. But I did not intend for us to get married."

"Fine. So, after the shots."

"Alright, so we took the shots…"


	3. Chapter 3

AN – To answer a question I could not answer in the review section – This is set after they kind of sort of said that they liked each other and wanted to start having a relationship. It's in the early stages, and Tony though it would be a good idea for them to take a vacation together. …to Vegas. Which just sounds like a powder keg waiting for the match, to me. And that match was enough alcohol to set a house on fire.  
On another note, I'm currently in LOVE with David Guetta's new song with Fergie, as you will see. I just felt it had a significant feeling – other than the line about getting you back again. Anyway, to get to it.

**The story.**

"If I didn't know any better, Mr. Stark, you're trying to get me drunk." She was giggling like a school girl, and not doing well at covering the top that could so very easily fall open and give me the slightest peek-

"Maybe I am. I know I plan on having a good night. I was just hoping you would join me." I chuckled. She was gone. Had been gone since her 4 glasses of wine at dinner. She hadn't gotten to eat much of the dinner she ordered because I had kept her talking. I guess it was my fault that she was out of her mind.

And the patron shots were not helping.

We were on number 3, and she was slurring a little, but not anywhere near willing to stop.

The club was dark and packed, so no one was really looking for a billionaire. We were lucky enough to get tucked into a special table in the corner with our own waiter and everything. After 4 good scotches at dinner (and I had at least eaten mine) I was a little tipsy, but it wasn't anything I couldn't function through.

"Potts, if you keep leaning over like that, I'm going to have to hold you down and start doing shots from your chest."

"Tony, there is no way my chest is big enough to hold a shot glass." She held one up between our faces, then looked down at her chest. Her hair fell around her shoulders, and she was pretty even while drunk.

It was a rare occasion to see her this blown out of her skull, but I could only hope she wouldn't be super outrageously pissed at me in the morning.

The pounding bass changed, the girls started yelling, and before I knew it, we were out on the dance floor. Pepper had hidden one thing from me in the many years of being my assistant – she could dance. She could grind, she could shake - she could go low just like any of the 20 somethings that we were surrounded by.

And I don't think you realize how hard it was to conceal that it was…hard to keep my feelings inside.

She dragged me out originally for a TI song, then stayed through some others I wasn't quite sure of before she pulled me back to the table. She was still her giggling self, but this time, instead of being across the table from each other, we were right up next to one another, and she was leaning herself on me.

"It's so hard, dancing…and with you, it's like WOW. I mean, you have this, this sweat smell that's like…oooh."

Definitely, definitely overtly drunk.

From one of the many scantily clad waitresses wandering around, I ordered myself another scotch and got Pepper a water. She was probably going to be pissy as shit in the morning as it was. If I could sober her up some, maybe she wouldn't kill me in the morning.

"Hey, hey…I'm going to go toilet. …to the…yeah. I'll be back." Still giggling, Pepper wobbled off on those heels towards the women's bathroom.

I sat there, in our little booth, thinking that I should call Rhodey to tell him how much he was missing out since he decided not to come. What was he really missing, seeing Pepper drunk? Sure, he would be a great cover if he had come. If someone else was around, she couldn't bitch at me for possibly doing things to her while she was intoxicated.

As I fiddled with my phone in my lap, the waitress came back with the two drinks. I didn't really pay attention to the girl until her crotch was on top of mine and my hands. I was stuck with giant barely covered green-sparked breasts shoved in my face and my hands stuck underneath the girl's steaming crotch. …Why was I noticing the heat difference?

"Here are your drinks…Mister Stark."

"Uh, yeah, thanks. Get off of me, will you? I mean, your breasts are…so nice, but…"

"TONY!"

Yeah, I expected that to come.

"I didn't – she got on me-"

"I was just becoming acquainted with Mr. Stark." The girl said with a cute little smirk. Oh, if only I wasn't so tied…but I'm supposed to be above that now! Doesn't mean I can't window shop, but I can't touch or buy. This whole monogamy thing? Pretty damn hard.

Pepper took care of her by pulling her off by her hair. Yes, her hair. Something inside of me twitched – probably more like in my pants – at the idea of these two going at it.

Oh please start fighting, oh please –

And I couldn't get that lucky if I tried. The waitress sauntered off and Pepper stared at me indignantly. I couldn't take an angry drunk Pepper seriously. There was no way whatever angry spurt of words came out of her mouth would make sense. She couldn't even tell me earlier that she had to go to the bathroom in a complete sentence.

"What was that?"

Okay, so maybe being angry sobers her…or something. Man that top looks great on her…

"Oh, what? That chick? She jumped on me! See, she was bringing your water, and she got chummy…that's a weird word, huh…"

I can't say shit. I just side-tracked myself by saying the word chummy.

"I thought you were done with tramps! Especially barely covered whores wearing green glitter!"

"Yeah…she was wearing glitter huh."

"WHAT THE FUCK TONY."

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I didn't want her in my lap, she just started grinding on me-"

Her look told me that even with my somewhat working mind and her barely working one, this was going nowhere fast.

"Pepper, I love you. I love you so much, to show that I'm committed and want you so bad, I'll…I'll marry you. Right now. Here. In Vegas. Down the street. I'll buy you a dress, ring, whatever. Come on."

That all just…came out of my ass. A quick thought. Profess love, say you'd marry them, we get this over with.

Her stare of death turned into complete confusion, then a light of idea that I apparently said something right, for once.

Somehow, I managed, with my glass of scotch in my hand, to get down on one knee in the tiny VIP section of this club and hold my glass up to her with my hand on my chest, like I was singing a song to profess my love to her.

I cocked my head just right with a weird smile, trying to use that debonair charm I supposedly had hiding somewhere for all of these months.

She reached down and grabbed my hand with my drink to take it away and put it on the table. After rendering me powerless without my magic elixir of make-me-say-shit-that-works, she pulled me up off of my knees and stared right into my face. I wished she didn't wear heels sometimes. It would be easier if I had to look down at her-

"Shut the fuck up and put your money where your mouth is, Stark."

At the time, it sounded sexy and her dragging me back out to the dance floor meant that everything was okay. I mean, why else would she want to grind all over me again.

As soon as we walked out into the horribly loud dance area, a song came on that apparently lit up Pepper like a Christmas tree, and within seconds, she was singing 3 feet in front of me (which was as far as she could get from me in this giant crowd).

"All the things, I know right nooow, if I only knew baack theeeen."

Even drunk, red-faced and slurring a little she was not a bad lip-syncer. Well, neither was I, for that matter.

"There's no getting over, no getting over, there's just no getting over yooou!"

Just to scare her, I thought I'd join in.

I raised my hand to my face like a mike, and stared right at her, singing right back.

"Wish I could spin my world into reverse – just to have you baaack agaaiiin. There's no getting over, there's no getting over, there's just no get-ting o-ver you!"

With my hands, right when the deep voice said 'bring it back', I motioned for her to come on over. With her hands above her head, she did, dancing in just the right light and in the right way to catch that one part of me looking. In a jumping group of young kids, we were there, grinding against one another. A moment together, body against body, pieces of skin against pieces of skin. It was the single most erotic dancing I had ever been part of.

My hands around her waist and her back to me, we moved in rhythm to the heavy beat Guetta gave the world.

"People in the plaaacee. If you've ever felt looove. Then you know! Yeah, you know! What I'm talking abouuutt… There's no getting ooovaaaa…" Pepper belted, staring at me with her head over my shoulder. I stopped her long note with my mouth crushing hers. That feeling of our bodies touching one another.

We rode out the end of the song before I was being pulled around again by a giggling schoolgirl back to our table to gather ourselves and grab a check. She ordered a martini to go. I didn't say anything – I was quick to throw down my last scotch and high-tail it out of there. There seemed to be a bright future of sweat and nudity ahead of me.

Once we were standing outside the club waiting for our driver, she finally said something.

"So, about that dress…"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x—

"I was the one that decided to get married."

"Yeah." What else could I say, it was true. Sure, she was probably going to get more pissed than she had been, but-

"But you're the one that said it."

"While drunk."

"I was drunk too."

"You took bait that I didn't even mean to throw out on the line. Though, there's something about that m-word that just sets off a bomb in women's brains. Anything about marriage and everyone with a uterus flips shit-"

"Tony, you're not helping."

"You did say your mother was going to stop pestering you about kids-"

"That's enough."

"Yes dear." I chirped, covering my face with the towel I had been using to dry myself. I had to bite my tongue to keep from making her more angry, but I knew there was no way I could keep from the torment I would get.

I wanted nothing more than to help her scrub those strawberry locks, or that pale, soft skin. I wanted her to be more comfortable with me. I wanted the fact that we got married to mean more than a piece of paper and a drunken night. How does a guy convince an angry woman that something she did when completely unrestrained is something she really, really wanted but would never think of doing with alcohol? Well, at least for now.

She kept quiet for a few minutes as she cleaned herself and I sat in the chair waiting. I was nice enough to cover my lap with the towel, but otherwise I was sitting waiting.

Shortly, she turned the water off and reached her hand out for the dry towel to wrap in before she came out.

"I don't think this was a good idea, Tony."

How was I going to convince her otherwise?


	4. Chapter 4

_**Men only want one thing.**_

_**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**_

"Pep, let's…let's go back. I'll call John." He sighed and stood up, keeping the towel around him as he walked out and shut the door.

What was wrong with him? He seemed more disappointed than anything…what was it? That he didn't get to see me naked? God, why did that have to be the only thing he was interested in? He probably offered to marry me knowing that I would sleep with him afterwards, if given the right amount of alcohol and buttering up. God, how could I have been so stupid!

The only reason he wanted to stay married was to get to possibly have sex with me!

If I was mad before, now I was absolutely furious. At least he had left. I started packing everything in the bathroom, throwing bottles and bottles down into the leather bathroom bag. Cologne, after shave, lotion, shampoo, face wash…

Packing all of our things together in one bag was even more angering. We weren't together. Sure, on paper we were married, but that didn't mean that in sound mind I said "I do" in front of a William Shatner impersonator!

"_No, call him up! We're friends, he'll understand!"_

"_Mr. Stark, it's 3 in the morning. He lives-"_

"_He won't care! I told him this would happen someday! Not that he believed me, ha!"_

Oh shit, I've started to remember things. He wanted the real William Shatner to do our wedding? God, what have I gotten myself into?

After zipping up the leather bag quite vehemently, I broke out of the bathroom with my towel tight around my body only to find him gone from the room. His bag was sitting on the bed closed and his suits were on hangers in the garment bag next to it. He seriously wanted to go home. It wasn't just something to placate me. Or at least he was making it look like he had been serious.

He even set out my bag on the bed. And the clothes from last night had already been put in the laundry bag that was left in the closet.

But where was he? Hiding out somewhere in hopes of seeing me nude? What did it matter anyway, we had already had sex.

I found a simple purple tank and some nice jeans to pull on and threw off the towel into the bathroom. From everything I could tell, he wasn't hiding in the closet like a peeping tom. He was gone off somewhere to sulk and didn't seem to be coming back for now.

My still dripping hair hadn't bothered me until I tried to pull on my top and had nothing but a wet back. Great. Just great, add it on to my wonderful day. Well, I didn't have to dry my hair. Being in the desert did have some perks – especially since I didn't plan on being seen after this.

I still couldn't believe I was wearing his brass rat ring. Why hadn't I taken it off yet? The tape had to be loose from the water, and it felt nasty on top of my skin. I yanked on it and wiggled it off of my finger before ripping the tape off afterwards. It left a soft, wet raw spot on my ring finger. It was as if the ring didn't want to go away even after I took it off.

"Tony?" I called out once I had my bag put up and a pair of flats to wear on the plane. Hopefully he was off the phone with the pilot John by now…

My hand felt odd as I moved around the room to make sure we weren't going to leave anything. My hand felt like it was missing something. Hell, I only took the thing off minutes ago. Did my hand look as odd as it felt? I looked down at it as my right hand picked up the bag I had on the bed to move it out into the living room. Was everything that different just because I had gotten rid of an accessory? My stomach was in my legs. But had it always been there today? I couldn't remember.

I had to rub on the soft skin for a minute with my thumb. Maybe I should put the ring back on until the skin came back…or would that just not let it heal?

"Is it so bad to be with me?"

How long had he been standing there?

I moved my head upwards to see him standing there in the doorway with a t-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses on. His hair was a half-wet mess but he didn't seem to care. His face had little to no expression, like he was taking in all data. He didn't seem angry, happy, sad, or anything. Just…standing there. Like a mannequin.

"John will be ready in an hour. We can grab lunch and get out to the air strip. I'll call the car."

Something was definitely wrong. He would never call the car himself, or hell, called the pilot. Was this really taking a toll on him? He seemed completely indifferent about everything. And why was he wearing sunglasses in the hotel room when none of the curtains were open?

The car didn't take long, and by the time we picked up some sandwiches and got out to the private airstrip, the jet was almost ready to jump the state line. A man who worked at the airstrip was quick to unload our baggage and load it into the cargo area. Tony got out of the car, paid the driver, and walked up into the cabin without a single word to me.

He hadn't spoken to me since he told me he was going to call the car.

The short jet ride wasn't much better either.

I read the entire time to keep from screaming at him. He was busy playing with something on his table in the back made of the same plastic board that hung around his workshop. He was doing something as quietly as possible. After a few minutes I realized he had headphones in to keep himself in his whole world.

I wanted to walk over and shake him and make him talk to me. Why wasn't he talking to me? Normally he couldn't keep his mouth shut, or keep his hands away from me, or try to put his hands on me only for me to bat him away for the moment of playful banter.

What was he doing back there anyway?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Where did I hide it? I knew it was supposed to be in the workshop somewhere. There was no way I had moved it. I kept it down there with the other one. I mean, there hadn't been any real reason for me to keep up with it, but now when I did want it I couldn't find it.

I had to plug in my headphones to talk to Jarvis. I typed, he talked back. He, with the robots, was looking for the thing for me. I had to have it by the time we got back. It would have to do for now. I'd get her a new one, one that was hers, but I had to keep her. I couldn't let her leave without it. And I only had so much time before we would land and Happy would pick us up for them to find it.

"Sir, could it be in your closet?"

_Look in the cufflink box. It might be in the bottom._

"Yes sir. I'll scan it now."

That was somewhere I hadn't thought about looking. But it was possible. It could be in there. Please be in there.

"Sir, I'm detecting a ring box inside. I believe it is what you are looking for."

Thank you God, Jesus, whatever. There was no way I had lost it. Though I don't remember moving it from my work desk to my closet. I guess I did it so I wouldn't do something to it? Whatever. I found it. That's all I cared about.

Thinking about rings, I looked at my right hand for a moment – Pepper had never given back my brass rat. She still had it. Not wearing it, but still had it. I was surprised she hadn't thrown it back at me or given it to me when I found her in the bedroom staring at her hand. Maybe she didn't want to give it back just yet. Maybe she was fighting on the inside about this whole annulment thing.

She seemed pretty content reading over on the couch. Do I ask for it back? No, that's something for her to decide.

"Mr. Stark, we'll be landing shortly."

"Thanks John." I called out. Pepper jumped when I answered back and shut her book. I guess she thought I couldn't hear anything. Sure, I normally had hard rock blaring, but for this moment I wasn't listening to anything. I took out the ear plugs and turned the board off so I could get up and move over to her on the couch.

I knew better than to sit with her right now, so instead I sat in a chair across from her. But what do I say? Don't leave me. I know this was quick but we can make it work?

"Uh…Pep, uhm…"

She stared at me for a moment in confusion, those blue eyes boring into me. It was odd how long we just stared at each other. I couldn't think of what to say to placate her. What would keep her from going back to her apartment and not seeing her until Monday when she came to work? Other than outright stealing her things and locking her in the house. I didn't need her pissed, I needed her level-headed and comfortable. How could I keep her that way…but the moment ended a way I hadn't expected. She started laughing hysterically.

"What? What's funny?" Did I do something? I stared at her quite confused and disturbed really. Why would a woman who seemed to hold me in such contempt minutes before break into hysterics in mere seconds?

"In ten years of picking up your messes, cleaning vomit off of your chin, and waking you up hungover and nude, I've never seen you more uncomfortable than you are now!"

She was right, I had no idea what I was doing. So, I just shut my mouth and turned away from her. She would have to wind down sometime.

A few minutes later we were down on the ground and Happy was there to unload our bags. She had calmed down by then, but once again we weren't particularly speaking. Happy didn't say much, but once Pepper had passed him to go to the car and he saw me, he stopped and mouthed something to me along the lines of 'what's with her?' and I held up my left hand. His eyes went wide and I made the movement over my neck of a cut throat, and he just shortly nodded. He went along to grab whatever else he needed to, and I moved to the Bentley to get in with her.

Once all packed and inside, Happy just blithely continued his job routine.

"Do you want to go to your apartment Pepper?"

"Oh, I left some things on my desk in the office. I have to go back to the house. Will you take me home after, Happy?"

"Sure, miss."

Aha! My moment was found. She had to go back to the house, and I could corner her. How was I going to do that? How quickly could I run upstairs and find the box before she would be done in her office…

I stared out the window the entire time we were in the car, and she took the time to trudge through my daily emails. Never off the clock. At least she had waited until we got back. She must have known I would have broken it if she had done that in Vegas.

Happy must have felt the tension in the car, and tried to cut it with something, anything.

"Well, did you have fun?"

"Much, Happy." She stated curtly without even looking up from her phone. I turned my head to look over to her, then to the man looking in the rearview mirror only to shrug at him and shake my head. He took that as nothing is going to help, so he kept quiet the rest of the way.

Thankfully, he drove quickly to the front door of the house and took his time getting the baggage arranged. Having gotten in on the correct side, I was the first one out, and sprinted my way inside and upstairs through my bedroom door to my closet. I left Pepper behind in the dust, hoping that she would be slow for the moment.

I yanked open the box for cufflinks, and at the bottom was the black ring box I had been looking for. I checked inside and I was completely right.

With the same fervor as I had gotten up here, I was gone in a flash down the stairs and to the other side of the house. She had to be in her office by now.

She was, the afternoon sunlight hitting the right place on the water to reflect softly into the room. She was sorting things on her desk and hadn't noticed me while I stood in the door.

"Pepper, I…"

"Yes, Tony?" She didn't look up at me. She was busy reading some memo that she pulled out of the printer before stapling it to something else.

"Pepper, don't go." I finally squeaked out.

"Who said I was going anywhere? I'm just going to go home. I'll be back Monday, Mr. Stark."

Back to work formalities. And we had gotten so far! I cringed, but I was sure she didn't see. I couldn't keep my hands from fiddling with the box behind my back.

"No, don't leave. Don't leave me here alone." I choked out. It was a fight to make myself say that to her.

That finally caught her attention from her sorting and she looked at me with that face. The face she got when she was curious, but also possibly angry as hell with me.

"You still haven't given me my ring back." I mumbled out. That probably didn't sound right. I knew it couldn't sound right. I meant it in a way that wasn't 'I want my ring back' and more 'you're still thinking about saying yes'. But she wouldn't take it the way I wanted, and I knew it.

"You can have your brass rat back. It's not like it fit me anyway." She grumbled as she fished in her back pocket before holding her left hand out to me.

This was when I could strike.

I walked forward and took the ring from her balled hand, but didn't let go of her fingers. I purposely gave her my left hand for a reason, and held hers within my own.

"This doesn't have to be as bad as you think it will." I said quietly to her across her desk. She was still so far away from me, and still so tense. This was supposed to be a happy time, not one to fight and bicker.

"Tony, there's no way this can turn out well."

"You've joked you were married to your job anyway."

"…You're not helping yourself any."

Okay, okay. Don't make wisecracks.

I tucked the box in my back pocket for a moment so I could use my right hand to uncurl hers in mine. I wanted to really hold her hand, not hold her fist. She didn't fight and let me lock my fingers between hers.

I walked to the side and pulled her around from her desk, then out from the office into the living room. I didn't want to do this somewhere where she would really feel like she was marrying the job. That's not what this was about. This was about us. Tony and Pepper, not Mr. Stark and Miss Potts.

She followed reluctantly, but followed nonetheless. Once I was where I wanted to be, and comfortable, I stopped and pulled her to within a foot of me.

"I'm sorry it happened the way it did, but I'm not sorry it happened. Let me…let me make it up to you. Something, anything."

She didn't seem to be buying it for the moment. She was still stuck somewhere between annoyed and saddened. I knew what I had to do.

I got down on one knee and pulled the box out from my back pocket, opening it for her to see.

That was when I broke through, and she gasped.

"Tony, why do you-"

"My mother. They were my mothers, engagement and wedding. I'm wearing my fathers, remember?" I raised up my left hand by itself to remind her, then took the two small gold rings from the box so I could tuck the box back into my pocket. I still was offering her the vintage diamond and gold pieces I knew from so long ago.

"I…I can't, Tony, it's…"

"It's what?" I asked softly. Would she really reject me on one knee when I was trying to give her more than just some ring I paid thousands of dollars for down the street?

She was the one that stood me up. She pulled my left hand up until I was standing in front of her. She took the rings from my hand and…stuck them on her own finger.

"I already said yes, remember?"

My heart melted, my mind fried. I couldn't move – I didn't know what to say. She kissed me. Bombs went off in my head and my knees were weak. She said yes. Again.

She wasn't leaving me. I didn't have to refuse to sign the divorce papers. I didn't have to cry at her door when she refused to see me.

And I didn't have to hire a new assistant.


End file.
